Disclaimer: I don’t own them, and I’ll put them back safely when I’m done!

“Well, of all the botherations, this is the worst!”

Pippin, from where he was curled in front of the hearth, looked over at his mamma nervously. She was watching Cousin Bilbo’s back apprehensively.

“Is the snow very bad?” she asked.

Bilbo sighed and turned back to her. “It is. I’m sorry, Lala dear, but it looks as though you and Pip are stuck here with us for Yule.”

Eglantine nodded, looking terribly disappointed. Pippin climbed off of the hearthrug and went to her. The two of them had stopped at Bag End after visiting the North-Tooks for a few days. Pippin had been terribly excited to see Frodo and Bilbo, and while Eglantine had agreed that the Bagginses were much nicer company than the North-Tooks, they both wanted to see Paladin and the girls for the holiday.

Pippin settled onto Eglantine’s lap and looked around. He adored Bag End; it was much quieter and nicer, really, than the Smials. He liked how it smelled of pipeweed, gingerbread, and greenery. There was a big Yule tree standing over in the corner, covered in pretty decorations, and the gingerbread house he had helped Frodo build that morning had a place of honor on the side table.

“It could always be worse,” Frodo pointed out. “You could be trapped outside instead of here at Bag End.”

Eglantine laughed softly. “Yes, I know. Please don’t misunderstand me, Bilbo; it’s just that I miss Pal and my girls. I’d been hoping to be home to them by tomorrow.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly, my dear. Not to worry, though, we’ll have you off home as soon as the snows let up.”

Pippin left his mamma’s lap and wandered over to Frodo. His cousin was making funny stars out of shiny paper, and attaching strings to them so that they could hang from the ceiling. The stars were red, blue, gold, and green. Pippin was fascinated by them.

“They’re like the stars that hang in the sky,” Frodo explained, handing him a small gold one. “I like the stars, but they are always hidden by the clouds in winter, so I make them out of paper, instead. Want to try?”

“Yes, please, Frodo,” Pippin replied, and Frodo handed him some paper.

That kept Pippin occupied until his naptime. He left Frodo putting strings onto his stars, which were rather lopsided, but still good, and let his mamma put him to bed without a fight.

“That’s a fine lad you have, Lala,” Bilbo said when Eglantine came back to the parlor.

“Oh, he’s just being polite,” she laughed. “Wait until he feels less shy around you. You won’t think he’s so charming, then.”

Frodo snickered, knowing full well what Pippin could be like. Bilbo laughed a little as well, before turning to look out of the window. The snow was not letting up, streaking almost sideways in the brisk wind. No, it was definitely wisest for Eglantine and Pippin to stay at Bag End.

Pippin woke up around teatime, and wandered down to the kitchen to see what there was to eat. He found his mother and cousins sitting around the great big table, eating biscuits and drinking tea. Frodo was drinking cocoa, and he poured Pippin a mug full when he saw him.

“Just in time for tea, aren’t you, lad? Proper Took,” Bilbo said with a grin, handing Pippin a sandwich.

“I’m a good lad,” Pippin said sweetly, and felt rather confused when everyone began to laugh.

“Gingerbread, Pip?” Frodo asked, holding a plate out. When Pippin nodded, Frodo leaned forward and whispered, “Mrs. Gamgee made it. She’s the best at making gingerbread in all of Hobbiton and Bywater.”

It was very good gingerbread, almost as good as his mamma’s. It was thick and warm, and the spices made Pippin’s tongue tingle. He was on his second piece when a pounding knock on the front door made them all jump.

“Who in Middle-earth could that be?” Bilbo exclaimed, jumping up. “And in this weather?”

He hurried to the front door, and suddenly the others heard him exclaim, “My goodness, Dwalin! Come in, all of you!”

There came the sound of a great many feet in the front passage, and Eglantine jumped up to see what was the matter. Bilbo called down to her, sounding mightily pleased.

“Eglantine, have Frodo put on another pot of tea, and also more cocoa. And build up the fire, would you?”

“Why, it’s a gaggle of dwarves!” Eglantine said in surprise. “Best do what he said, Frodo.”

Frodo was grinning quite broadly, not looking at all put out. Pippin stared at him in astonishment, then glanced curiously at the kitchen door. Dwarves? Like the dwarves from the stories? He had always wanted to see dwarves. He wondered if they would look like he imagined they did.

Soon enough, they were in the kitchen. There were three dwarves behind Bilbo, all bundled in coats. They crowded in behind Bilbo, reaching out towards the fire. They were talking with loud, good-natured voices, telling him all about something called Erebor, and a place called Dale. Pippin perked up at that; Bilbo had given him a toy bubble maker from a place called Dale, and he had associated Dale with toys ever since. They all stopped when they saw Lala, though, and bowed low.

“Dwalin son of Fundin, lady,” the leader of the group said. “At your service and your family’s.”

“Eglantine Took,” Eglantine said graciously, smiling at him. “And this is my son, Pippin.”

Pippin was not sure if he should bow or not, so he settled for smiling shyly at the dwarves. They smiled back at him, dark eyes twinkling behind their great beards.

“And this is my lad, Frodo,” Bilbo said, indicating Frodo, who stood and bowed politely. “My cousin on my father’s side.”

“Pleased to meet you all,” Dwalin said. “These are my traveling companions, Dori and Nori.”

“Come sit down, sit down,” Bilbo said, fussing about. “Would you like tea or cocoa?”

Everyone was soon settled, the dwarves nursing mugs of cocoa. Pippin, from where he sat on Eglantine’s lap, watched them curiously. It seemed that all three of the dwarves had been on Bilbo’s adventure, and he had endless questions he wanted to ask. Foremost in his mind was if Cousin Bilbo had really been as brave as he said he was. The polite conversation of the grown ups kept him from speaking, though.

At last, Dwalin set down his empty mug and turned to Bilbo. “We have brought you some gifts from Erebor. Yule presents, really, and we have enough for all of you. Someone fetch my bag.”

Nori ran to get the bag, which Dwalin had apparently left in the front hall. It was a big red bag, and it seemed to be bulging with gifts. Pippin felt his eyes grow wide. Eglantine pinched him lightly and shook her head.

“Behave, Pip,” she muttered.

“I am!” Pippin whispered indignantly. Just because he looked excited. Eglantine rolled her eyes.

Nori set the bag down before Dwalin with a thump. The elder dwarf opened it and rummaged around.

“Now where was that blasted object; I packed it in here myself…aha! Here you are, Bilbo, happy Yule!”

Bilbo took the wrapped gift and opened it, a smile on his face. It was a portable writing desk, like a smooth box that opened to reveal fresh paper and several bottles of ink, not to mention some finely crafted pens. Frodo leaned over Bilbo, looking on in astonishment.

“Oh, how lovely!” Bilbo exclaimed. “Perfect for poetry under the stars. Thank you very much, Dwalin, it’s too good of you.”

Dori gave a bark of laughter at that. “Nothing’s too good for our burglar, I’d say.”

“Right you are,” Dwalin agreed. “You’re quite welcome, Bilbo. Now, for the lady.” He rummaged about in his bag for a bit, ignoring Eglantine’s protestations that he did not need to give her anything. He came up with a beautiful fan, crafted of gleaming ivory and mother of pearl. Eglantine took it with a wondering look on her face.

“Made by the dwarves,” Dwalin said. “There’s a fan that will not break.”

“Thank you,” Eglantine said softly, staring at it.

“Frodo next!” Pippin cried, and the dwarves laughed, even as Eglantine shot him a swift look.

“Yes, now for the older lad.” Dwalin rummaged, and Frodo tried not to look curious. He failed miserably, blue eyes shining with excitement as Dwalin finally produced a beautiful spyglass.

“Use it well, lad,” Dwalin said. “It sees farther than other spyglasses. Now for the little lad!”

Pippin jumped excitedly, grinning up at them. After all of the lovely things that had come out of that red bag, he just knew that he would be receiving something grand! He leaned forward excitedly as Dwalin finally emerged from the sack.

“Here you are, Pippin,” he said. “How do you like it? Are they good enough for a lad your age?”

Pippin accepted the wooden sword and shield with wide eyes and an open mouth. They were crafted of dark wood, and the shield had runes and a tree carved into it. There were runes on the blade of the sword.

“Oh, my,” Pippin said. “I’m going to be the most famousest hobbit at home with these! Thank you!”

He dove off of Eglantine’s lap and gave Dwalin a fierce hug. Dwalin, looking a trifle bemused, patted his back gently. “Look, lad, I’ll show you a trick. There’s a little box on the back of the shield here, see? And when you open it, it has a tin whistle. All heroes like a bit of song after a hard day’s work.”

There was indeed a whistle in the long thin box at one side of the shield. It was silver, and had the Dale mark stamped on it. Pippin grinned, eyes dancing.

“This is so wonderful! Isn’t it lovely, Mamma?” he cried, showing it to Eglantine.

Eglantine laughed and hugged him. “Yes, it’s wonderful, Pippin.”

They were all smiling, and talk resumed until Bilbo decided it was high time to start dinner. Dori and Eglantine helped him with that, while Nori told Frodo a dwarvish tale, and Dwalin taught Pippin to play the whistle and hold the sword. Pippin was thrilled; it was as though all of his dreams were coming true.

Dinner was a grand affair. They had roast chicken, and taters, and gravy, and hot bread…it was a feast even by hobbit standards. Pippin was nodding off from the amount of food by the time they had reached the final course, and Frodo carried him to the sofa in the parlor to nap it off.

“Isn’t it nice, Cousin Lala?” Frodo murmured when he came back to the table. “Imagine all of this!”

Eglantine gave the lad a quick hug. “Yes, it’s wonderful, Frodo. It’s absolutely delightful.”

There were Yuletide carols later in the evening, and tales told round the fire, but it all faded into one happy memory for Pippin, who woke a short time later.

The dwarves left Bag End early the next morning, and Pippin never saw them again. When he was a tween, he came across a big book of lore deep in the libraries of the Great Smials. In it was told the tale of how a group of dwarves would come to the Shire sometimes, and give presents to hobbits who had been good throughout the year. He would always gleefully remember the time Dwalin and company had visited, and kept his presents in his room, even when he had become too old for a wooden sword and shield. And there they were years later, when he returned from the Quest with a real sword and shield: little wooden toys that had a tree much like the one he wore now stamped on them. He never forgot that Yule.

The End.